


Can You Really Call This A Fanfic?

by Tically



Series: That's Undertail, baby! [3]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Incest, M/M, Swapcest - Freeform, Underswap Asgore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 12:19:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16892487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tically/pseuds/Tically
Summary: SFW ficlets





	Can You Really Call This A Fanfic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Underswap, implied swapcest

Through the quiet of Snowdin Forest, littered with the occasional scurry or crunch of a creature traveling through, rang out the giddy laughter of a monster who’d just heard the funniest story of his life.

“You-” Papyrus had to collect a breath, wiping a tear from his socket. “You really kept a cat monster as a pet?”

The low, rumbling voice from behind the door answered in similar windedness: “Indeed, their parents were not at all happy when they found out. More so with their daughter’s dishonesty, but that is the way it is with cat monsters.”

Papyrus hugged his ribs, still panting out the last of his mirth. “Oh, man. She just wanted a cat daddy to take care of her. Wow. Hahaha, just wow. Say. Did she ever tell you to pet her?” In a high pitched voice: “with your eyes?”

The other monster bellowed with a gut laugh, and Papyrus’ smile felt ready to split. His laughter was always sincere, if a bit doleful sometimes.

Papyrus never felt more proud of himself than when he managed to get a pure belly laugh out of him. The sound would resonate in his mind and stick a grin on his skull all the way home.

“Oh ho ho, and no one was more outraged than my wi–”

The man cut himself off, suddenly, every drop of levity evaporated from his tone.

Worry furrowed the skeleton’s sockets, even as his chest shook with chuckling. “Heh, hey, you alright in there, old man?” Papyrus was sobering quickly at the unnerving silence behind the door.

At length, a quiet, sad reply filtered through. “My apologies, my friend.” A great sigh heaved, and Papyrus could almost feel its weight through the barrier between them. “Let us move past this topic.”

Papyrus hesitated, frown growing. This wasn’t the first time the man had dodged details from his past, but this was certainly the most cryptic episode to date. Even so, the two had an understanding–a respect for each other’s privacy. No names. No searching questions.

“Sure thing,” he replied, lounging back into a comfortable position. Head leaned back, elbow propped up on a knee. He always imagined that his friend sat in much the same manner, with a contented smile upon his face. Even if he didn’t actually know what he looked like.

Papyrus thought about him an a lot. Wondered why he kept himself locked away when he was such great company to be around. Sans would adore him, he was sure. Would invite him with open arms into their home.

Home, right. Sans would be wanting to bed down with a story, soon.

Papyrus stretched with a few errant pops. “Whelp, it’s about that time, anyway, to be hittin’ the old trail.” Papyrus stood, and unconsciously, his voice shifted to an affectionate inflection, “Sans needs me for his beauty sleep.” Just thinking about it made his soul a little warm. It was the best part of his day, getting to hold Sans’s body close as he drifted off. And maybe watching his relaxed, adorable face for a bit. And stealing a secret kiss or two–

“Ah.”

Papyrus paused at the forlorn utterance. He placed a hand against the cold stone of the ruins door. “Are you alright, man?”

“Oh! Yes, nothing to worry about, my friend.” Papyrus could hear the forced smile. “Just the silly musings of an aging monster. Please, do not worry on my account.”

Papyrus frowned. They may omit the truth, but lying to each other was never on the table before. He rested his skull against the door and spoke softly, hoping the sincerity of his statement would penetrate the inches of dirt and rock. “What’s eatin’ ya, buddy?”

Another sigh rang through, and the man was quiet for a very long time. Papyrus was a patient monster, and the wait did not bother him in the least. He took the opportunity to light up, inhaling and savoring the sensuous feel of the smoke curling around his ribs and spine before seeping out through his sockets and nasal opening. Papyrus enjoyed the way smoke swirled around in the air, making little patterns that floated about in the breeze before dissipating completely. It was a relaxing pastime for him. It cleared his mind like nothing else. He focused on the ribbons of grey, and let his thoughts wander aimlessly.

When the man finally spoke again, the skeleton startled a bit. “It is greatly enjoyable to hear you talk about your sibling,” he said, voice low and bittersweet. “It is clear that you truly care for him, that you indeed love him tremendously.”

Something stirred in Papyrus’s soul, but he quashed it down to concentrate on the man’s words.

“Such devotion is so sweet to hear, but it also pains me considerably, for it is a reminder of what I have lost.”

Papyrus stiffened against the door. With a last drag, he snuffed the spent cig out under his shoe. His sockets were dark as he answered, “I’m…sorry for–”

“No, please do not be!” The man cut him off hurriedly. “Though I admittedly envy you, my choices are mine to bear. Please, do not begrudge yourself this happiness. I am just…” There was another long pause. “Lonely.”

Papyrus’s soul clenched. There was no hesitation: “Come stay with us.”

There was an endearing chuckle behind the door. “I’m afraid that is an impossible pipe-dream, my friend.”

They were breaking new ground, and Papyrus tread carefully. “Why not?” he asked gingerly.

His answer, at length, was a cloud of dust raining down upon his skull. He leaped back, soul in throat, to stare in bewilderment at the creaking, shifting ruins door.

He was coming out.

Papyrus could feel a thrill of excitement run through him. A mystery was about to be unveiled. All these months of getting to know one another, and now the big reveal: he'd finally meet the Man Behind the Door. Absently, he regretted his sloppy state of dress. His hoody was stained and these pants has seen some time since their last wash. It's not the first impression he would have preferred to give the other monster, but...oh, well. It's happening.

The door was huge, ancient, crisscrossed with vines and branches, yet the man inside opened it with smooth ease. He was strong, that's for sure. 

From the darkened narrow gap, a flicker of gold, a peek of twisted horns. An imposing figure, huge, threatening in its massive posture. Then, the monster ducked his head out into the light.

A kind smile. Warm brown eyes cooled by sadness. "It is good to finally meet you."

Papyrus forgot to breathe, his face surely comical in its shock. He immediately knew who this monster was, and the bits and pieces of information he'd gleaned through their conversations came crashing down into the completed jigsawed picture before him. _He's alive._ After only a moment, Papyrus reschooled his features back into their natural carefree state.

"Right back at ya, buddy," he replied with a wink.

Asgore pushed the door open even further. "You understand I dare not leave the ruins. Even so, would you care to join me for a cup of tea?"

Papyrus felt a compelling pull from the pain in those eyes. The invitation wasn't given lightly. Papyrus's weakness: a monster in need. Sans was surely waiting, but...how could he say no?

"Love to."

Once inside the door, Papyrus was greeted with a lush sprawling cavern of golden flowers, like a bright carpet. Light and warmth emitted from several floating balls of fire abovehead, giving the area an almost ethereal glow. Asgore led him to a well-worn patch in the center, with a small table covered in little tins and pots and cups, and indicated him to sit. As the skeleton did so, Asgore produced a flame in his right hand, and lifted one of the pots up to it.

"This will take just a moment. Please, make yourself comfortable."

"Don't mind if I do," the skeleton drawled, leaning back on his elbows and taking in the appearance of his friend. A long purple robe, with the royal emblem in the center. Gigantic claws that somehow dexterously handled the delicate china. A mane of fine, golden fur, and horns curling impossibly high.

Such a large, imposing figure with such a sweet, gentle manner about him.

In no time at all, Asgore presented Papyrus with a steaming cup of tea that smelled delightfully earthy. He took a sip, and felt the heat blissfully warm his magic. It was good. Different, but good. Could use a little honey, honestly.

Asgore watched his friend's reaction carefully, a serene smile upon his face. "As I recall, you mentioned having a sweet tooth? Do not be shy, my friend."

Papyrus flashed a chided, lopsided grin and produced a bottle from his hoodie pocket. After pouring a generous amount into the cup, he offered it to his companion. "Wanna try? It's good stuff."

Asgore considered for a moment, before accepting the bottle and pouring a less than generous amount in. They both sipped in silence for a few minutes. Neither entirely sure where to go from here.

At length, Asgore cleared his throat. "You...asked what was bothering me. And I am sure you can piece together an idea."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to--"

"But, I do. For you see, I am here in this prison by my own hand." He stared down into his cooling cup with furrowed brow. "It is selfish of me to burden you with this knowledge. Forgive me."

Papyrus did. And Asgore shared the story of his exile, and their commonality--unrequited love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12/4/16


End file.
